Cruel Beloved – Cocky Hero Club Read online T.L. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
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“The marriage has been shit. What about yours?” I ask her, smiling.

She looks taken aback, but plays it off as she answers, “Good. Chance and I…” She looks up at him, and he looks back with love shining in his eyes. “We’re really good.”

“You must be one of the lucky ones.” I lift the drink she just poured for me and take a sip of it, then turn to see Whiskey’s still staring at me.

“Well, you must be happy he ended the contract then,” Aubrey says.

The wine in my glass spills all over my skirt at the shock, then I look up to Whiskey, wanting answers. “What is she talking about?”

“You didn’t read the paperwork,” he says, stating the obvious. “Of course you didn’t.”

“Excuse me, but the last time you gave me something with paper involved, it ruined my life,” I reply.

“That’s how you see me? Ruining your life?” he asks, his temper escalating.

“Tell me, Whiskey, how else am I meant to see you? Or am I just meant to focus on the great sex and not the life part, you know, where that’s ruined for me.”

Whiskey pushes back from the table. He goes to speak, but shakes his head. “I tried to make up for that. I’ve tried to compensate you.”

I stand, my hands slamming on the table. “You bought the bar.”

“What!” Aubrey says, her eyes swinging from me to Whiskey.

“He did. He bought the place I work because he was jealous that one guy hit on me, so he smashed his face to a pulp.”

Chance smirks, and I throw my napkin on the table.

“I want to go home. Now.” I turn to Aubrey. “I’m sorry, tonight isn’t a great night for me. Maybe we can try again when I’m divorced.”

Then I turn and walk out.

31

Whiskey

“You bought the bar? What on earth were you thinking?” Aubrey says as Carla storms out.

“I was thinking of her.”

“Oh my God, you love her.” Aubrey’s hand goes over her mouth.

“No, I don’t.” Do I? No. That can’t be right. “I have to go. I need to take Carla home, or she might think she can walk. I wouldn’t put it past her.” I head outside and see her waiting by the car. Her back’s against it as she plays on her cell phone. I hit the unlock button making her turn around.

“I’m ordering an Uber.”

“Get in the car.”

“Whatever.”

I get in, waiting for her. She opens the door and slides in quickly, which surprises me, but she turns away immediately so she’s looking out the window.

“You should be happy. You’re getting what you want.”

“I didn’t want any of this. What is so hard for you to understand about all this?”

“I know that. But I have done as much as I can to make this not so hard on you. And you’re still a bitch.”

“Fuck you, Whiskey!” She turns to face me, and when I look to her, her face is smug as she smiles. “Why don’t you tell me the real reason you did this? Tell me, Whiskey. Tell me the real goddamn reason.”

I pull over on the side of the road. We aren’t close to home, but I can’t drive and have this conversation with her. “What did he say?” I ask, referring to Clinton.

“I want to hear it from your lips, Whiskey. I deserve that. I deserve to know why you chose me.”

“You really want to know?” I ask her.

“Yes. Tell me.”

“I hate your father with a passion. I was planning on making him hurt the same way I did. I wanted to destroy him.”

Carla’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. “Why?” she asks, shocked.

“He killed my father.”

“You said he committed suicide.”

“He did, because of what your father did.”

Carla appears confused at first. “What did he do?” she asks.

I look away. I don’t know if I want to tell her that part of the story but decide she has to know. “He had an affair with my mother, who left my father for him.”

“No. My father would never do that. That would ruin his precious image.”

“He did. She even fell pregnant.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m an only child.”

“You are…” I pause, not wanting to tell her this part. “The child died after birth.”

“You’re lying. Why? Is that all you do?” she screams.

“Ring him. Ask him.”

“What did I have to do with anything?” she asks with her phone now clutched in her hand.

“I wanted to take away what’s most precious to him, and that is you.” She shakes her head and gets out of the car. I wait and watch as she puts her cell to her ear. Her eyes close, and I get out, tears start leaving her eyes as I walk around to her.

“Is it true,” she asks in a whisper.

I can’t hear his reply.

It starts raining, tiny droplets of water touch her face and she doesn’t even bother to wipe them away as she waits.


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